


Learning From the Best

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: RED - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine William Cooper teaching you how to shoot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning From the Best

[Imagine William Cooper showing you how to shoot.](http://karlurbanimagines.tumblr.com/post/109441525826/imagine-william-copper-showing-you-how-to-shoot)

 

You walk into the waiting room next to the gun range, plastic blue gun case, ear plugs, and safety glasses in hand. It’s not exactly your first time handling a government issued gun, but you can’t help but be a little nervous. Oh, you have plenty of hours clocked on the range, plenty of bullets have been shot and targets destroyed. But today is different. Today will determine whether or not you get into the CIA.

 

The room is slightly abuzz with polite conversation as you walk through, aiming for and finding a spot in the back of the room. You aren’t trying to be anti-social, you just want to focus on the task, on getting into the elite organization, on making everyone proud.

 

With your hand atop the gun case, you can’t help but remember how you got here. You are much different than the woman who had never shot a gun, much less held one. What a difference six months makes.

 

* * *

 

Agent William Cooper paces, one hand tucked into the pocket of his suit pants, the other moving through the air as he talks about gun safety, the rules and regulations to be followed to the letter if you want to keep your job.

 

“In conclusion, your weapon is an extension of you. Take care of it and it will take care of you. Now, we’ll take a 15 minute break and then you’ll get your first taste of what it’s like to shoot a gun for the CIA.”

 

There’s light, scattered applause as Agent Cooper gives a firm nod of his head.

 

You had been scribbling down notes during the two hour long lecture, but that last line makes you chuckle.

 

“Something funny, miss…?”

 

A long shadow falls over your notebook and you crane your neck in order to see his serious face.

 

You swallow hard before providing your name. “No, sir.”

 

A thick brow arches as you shove the notebook into your bag and push the pen into the high knot. “Something must have been funny.”

 

You stand, pulling the messenger bag strap over your head. “It’s just that last line –“

 

“What about it?”

 

“I mean… it’s just… it seems a little corny.”

 

“This organization is anything but corny.”

 

You hold your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean –“

 

“If that’s the way you feel about it, maybe the FBI will be better suited for you.”

 

Groaning, you scrape a hand over your face. “NO! I want to be here, in the CIA, sir.”

 

“If you mean it.”

 

“I do.”

 

He relaxes his eyes, smoothing the deep crow’s feet only slightly. “Go on then, take your break. See you on the range in 15.”

 

* * *

 

“In front of you is a standard, government issue 9mm glock, currently unloaded. You’ll also find ear plugs, safety glasses, and a basic target. Put on your glasses and ear plugs before you load your weapon and on my signal, I want you to send your target out 10 yards and fire off three rounds.”

 

You do as instructed, pushing in the yellow ear plugs and securing a pair of yellow tinted safety glasses before handling the weapon. You try to focus, hoping your hands stop shaking before you do something stupid, like shoot someone.

 

Agent Cooper’s voice is loud, echoing in the massive gun range, “Go!”

 

20 different targets move down the range in a flurry of white paper and cardboard before jolting to a stop at 10 yards a fraction of a second before a multitude of gun shots fill the room. You, on the other hand, haven’t pulled the trigger of your weapon. You have it aimed at the target, yes, but your finger hesitates.

 

“Is there a problem with your weapon?”

 

You swallow hard as the smell of gunpowder is almost overwhelming. You mumble an answer under your breath, the ear plugs making it seem like you speak louder than you actually do.

 

A large hand rests on your shoulder in time with another coming to a stop above the gun you’re wielding. He looks down just as you look up, dark eyes flick back and forth. “Are you ok?”

 

Your throat is almost impossibly thick and despite your best intentions, you shake your head. Long fingers slide the gun from your grip and release the hammer before slipping it into his empty holster. You bend over and hang your head, gripping the edge of the table.

 

“Class dismissed. I’ll take a look over your targets and let you know tomorrow.”

 

Your eyes fall closed as your classmates shuffle out of the room, you can hear their teasing tones through the ear plugs and the sting of tears comes as a surprise.

 

Agent Cooper stands next to you, his arms crossed as he stares at your target.

 

“I’m sorry.” Reaching up, you remove the ear plugs.

 

When he doesn’t answer right away, you shift on your feet. “I should probably go, huh?”

 

He shakes his head as his hands drop down to rest on the table, long fingers spread out gracefully on the fake wood. “I had only been with the department for a week when I was given my first assignment. Some big shot Iranian was trafficking girls as young as 10. Some were prostitutes, others were drug mules. I hadn’t shot my weapon outside of the range or simulation, let alone aimed it another human being. It didn’t matter that he was a bad man.”

 

“What happened?”

 

He clenches his jaw before looking at you. “I shot him, but not before he slit the throat of a 13 year old girl.”

 

When you feel like you’ve stared at him for longer than is politely acceptable, you look down the range at your untouched target. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing, but why are you telling me this?”

 

He straightens and unholsters your weapon, setting it down on the table. “Because, if I had had someone relate to me in the beginning, I probably could have pulled the trigger sooner.”

 

You blow out a breath and stare at the matte black weapon. “I’ve never shot a gun.”

 

“So why start now? Why join the CIA?” His thick eyebrow arches slowly.

 

Your throat is thick again. “I don’t know if you remember the serial from a couple years ago, the one that made his victims shoot each other?”

 

He hums in response, nodding as he turns to lean back against the partition.

 

“My parents were his last victims.”

 

He blows out a breath that pushes the small hairs off your forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

The pair of you sit in silence for about 30 seconds before his fingers drum against the gun. “What do you say?”

 

“You’re going to show me?”

 

He gives a small lop-sided smile as he slips out from his dark blue suit jacket. “How else are you going to learn?”

 

You try not watching the white shirt as it stretches over his shoulders while he walks to the other side of the room, or how his long fingers move gracefully as he rolls up his sleeves to just above his elbows, or how casually he loosens his tie before unbuttoning the top button. By the time he’s back by your side, your mouth is dry and it feels like the room has shrunk.

 

“Now, I assume you know the basics. Loading a magazine, chambering a round, removing the safety; things like that?”

 

You pick up your weapon and carefully show him everything he just mentioned.

 

“Good, now earplugs in.”

 

He pushes in his own pair before sliding on a pair of the same yellow tinted glasses you’re wearing. With his hands on your hips, he adjusts your stance and slides a hand up your back, ensuring that you’re standing straight before resting them on your shoulders.

 

“Raise your weapon, line up your sights and remove the safety.”

 

You try to ignore the fact that he’s practically curled around you, his chest against your back as his hands ghost along your arms before resting on your wrists. You get your sights lined up, aiming for the center box on the target as your thumb flicks off the safety.

 

“Breathe in and hold it for three seconds then blow it out.”

 

You follow his direction and pull in a lungful of his faded cologne. It’s spicy and warm and it makes your brain tingle.

 

“Again.”

 

You follow his direction several more times before he gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

 

“Do it one more time, only this time, when you breathe out, I want you to pull the trigger.”

 

A knot forms in your stomach, but you don’t give in like last time. You square your shoulders and pull in a deep breath, hold it for three seconds before blowing it out and pulling the trigger.

 

“Again.”

 

You repeat the process until your clip is empty and you can taste the gunpowder when you lick your lips. Ejecting the clip, you can’t stop from smiling when he presses the button, calling back your target. He runs a finger over the tight grouping of 17 holes.

 

“I knew you could do it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Your name is called out by a familiar voice and when you look up, there’s a very serious set of dark eyes upon you. Gathering your equipment, you cross the room and brush past your instructor.

 

“Sir.”

 

He says your last name in a professional tone before ushering you to the range where you will face your final test.

 

A handful of agents are holding clipboards and scribbling various notes as you take your place.

 

Agent Cooper removes your weapon and begins to disassemble it as you stand under the heavy gaze of even the most senior agents. You try not to fidget nervously even though there’s a herd of butterflies threatening to climb up your throat.

 

You snap to attention when he steps into your line of sight. “Your final test is to assemble your weapon and shoot three different targets. One at 10 yards, one at 20 and the final at 50. Each target will be shot five times. You have 15 rounds and two minutes. Good luck.”

 

You take your place in front of your hidden dismantled weapon, he had set a blue handkerchief over it so you couldn’t study it before the test starts. Once your safety glasses and ear plugs are in place, you wipe the palms of your damp hands against your thighs before giving one curt nod.

 

He pulls the handkerchief away while simultaneously starting the stop watch.

 

Everyone around you fades away as you reassemble your weapon, moving quickly, yet efficiently until you pull the hammer back and release the safety. You quickly adjust your stance before taking aim. Pulling in a deep breath, you line up your sights and blow out a breath; squeezing the trigger five times in rapid succession. You repeat the process two more times, just like he taught you until the last bullet flies through the target.

 

The clip is ejected from the gun before you turn around, pulling off your glasses and pocketing the ear plugs as you spin on your heel. The burn of gunpowder makes you want to rub your nose, but you manage to ignore the urge as Agent Cooper gives a nod of approval. 


End file.
